


So Deep in My Heart

by The Fairy Queen (Angeleyes)



Series: So Much to Say [1]
Category: Emergency!
Genre: Angst, April Showers 2015, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3510149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeleyes/pseuds/The%20Fairy%20Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Roy's marriage falls apart, Johnny takes it upon himself to help his reluctant partner through the aftermath.  The partners grow closer, then more distant after a night one can't forget and the other doesn't want to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Deep in My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This work is first in a series called "So Much to Say". It is a slightly reworked version of a story written in 1999.

In less than 24 hours Roy DeSoto had delivered a baby, been accused of theft, and seen his marriage, which had been shakier than a high rise building on the San Andreas fault lately, finally crash to pieces around him.

His partner John Gage's ceaseless verbalization of his anxiety regarding the theft was not helping Roy's mood. Always the most excitable of men, John's agitation and constant complaints were wearing on Roy's already frazzled nerves. Roy knew that Johnny was as worried as Roy was himself, but he wished that John would just SHUT UP about it.

The whole debacle started out routinely when the paramedics were called out by the neighbor of a middle-aged man who had passed out on the floor of his apartment. Squad 51 did their job in their usual efficient way, and despite some decidedly hairy moments, they stabilized the man and transported him to Rampart. From that ordinary occurrence they found themselves embroiled in a robbery case.

The victim, Mr. Harrison, discovered $500 was missing from his wallet when he regained consciousness in the hospital. The two engaging young firemen seemed not just the likeliest suspects, but the only suspects. They'd already been grilled by the police, (whose detectives soon learned the folly of trying to turn the steadfast partners against each other) and seen a lawyer together. Both men were convinced that their arrest would be forthcoming, since John had called the police department earlier and found that the detectives working the case had gone to the DA to file a formal complaint.

Roy bitterly reflected on his memories of long ago neighbors joking about the neighborhood firemen and their sticky fingers - "the forty thieves" had been the term. He wondered if all citizens thought that about the men who risked their lives on a daily basis to protect their property and their very lives.

Even so, Roy couldn't find it in himself to be too anxious over the outcome of the ordeal. His problems with Joanne were taking priority. He thought back to their last phone conversation, and his fair freckled face flushed at the memory. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be arrested. At least it would take his mind off his marriage. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he was startled when Johnny's hand fell upon his shoulder. "Ready to head back?" Their shift was over, and it was time the two left Rampart Hospital for the station house to change clothes, go home, and await the inevitable.

"I suppose so..." They didn't get far. There in the hospital hallway they ran headlong into the men they'd been both dreading and expecting to see. Sure they were about to be taken into custody, both men steeled themselves, only to be shocked by what the detectives had to say. There had been a complaint filed in the case all right, but not against the firemen. It seemed the little old neighbor lady, the Good Samaritan who called them when her neighbor fell ill, had a small gambling problem which had needed a bit of facilitation. Gage and DeSoto were off the hook.

All the way back to the station house, Johnny bubbled over with relief. He didn't even seem to notice that Roy was almost completely silent.

They had the station to themselves, since the engine company was gone on a run to fight a brush fire in the hills. In the locker room Johnny's monologue continued. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his uniform shirt and pulled it and his undershirt off over his head together, tossing the balled up garments into the bottom of his odorous locker. "....man, when I saw those guys I thought I was going to faint dead away right there. I'm tellin' you, Roy, I thought the gig was up. Arrest, suspension, jail, the whole cannoli. Man, I don't know about you, but I'm not too anxious to share living space with a bunch of guys with names like Rocky and Turk, eyeballin' me like I was a piece of prime rib. Livin' with you guys is bad enough..." Johnny paused for breath and finally realized that Roy hadn't uttered a single word since they'd gotten back to the station.

He sat quietly on the bench, head bowed, his uniform shirt lain across his lap and his left shoe in one hand.

"Roy, what's wrong? We're finally in the clear, and you look like you just heard you're going down for hard time. Talk to me, man."

Without rising from his position on the bench, Roy suddenly hurled his shoe across the room with all of his not inconsiderable strength. It slammed into the wall, leaving a large black smear, and then tumbled a few feet to land right side up beneath the bench in front of Chet's locker. Johnny stared at it, shocked. It was so unlike Roy to have such an outburst that John might not have been more surprised if his partner had suddenly addressed him in Mandarin Chinese.

When he found his voice, John demanded, a little angry but mostly frightened, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Roy stared at the black streak on the wall. He thought Formula 409 would probably get it off. "She's got a lover."

John stared at him, uncomprehending. "What? What are you talking about?"

Roy turned to look at him, and the expression in his crystalline blue eyes made John shiver. "Joanne. She has a lover."

John's mouth fell open. He knew he should close it, that standing and staring at someone with your mouth agape is not only rude but a tiresome stereotype, but he just couldn't. His jaw would not cooperate. This couldn't be right... not Joanne.

"How do you know? Roy, you're way off on this one. You gotta be. Joanne wouldn't..."

"Yeah, she would. And I know because she told me. She met him at some parent's night thing at the school. One of the nights I was working. One of the nights I couldn't be there for her or the kids." His voice was filled with self-loathing. "He's a widower. She's been seeing him for six months. Can you believe that? Six months and I never knew. She said at first they were just friends, but that lately things changed. They were both 'lonely', she said, both 'needy', and they..." his voice trailed off.

John cleared his throat. "How long have you known?"

"A week, I guess. Maybe a little longer."

"And you never said anything to me?" The question came out a bit more stridently than John had intended and he winced.

Roy turned that icy glare on him, and John involuntarily took at step back.

Seeing his mild mannered partner like this was like seeing a rabbit suddenly take on a mountain lion. "What for? What could you have done? I was hoping she'd come to her senses. I thought if I could just talk to her, make her see what she was doing, to us and to the kids, I could make her see reason. But it didn't work. She said she doesn't want to be with me anymore. This guy, this.... guy, he's a stockbroker. Makes good money, I'll bet, and comes home for dinner every night. Doesn't risk his neck every day, and maybe leave her a young widow."

John sat down heavily on the bench beside his partner. "What are you guys going to do?"

"Right now, nothing. She's looking for a place to live, and when I'm home, I sleep on the couch. The kids... we haven't told the kids yet."

John dared another look at Roy. The anger seemed to have drained out of him, and although he wasn't actually crying, his eyes were watery and his face flushed. "C'mon. Let me buy you breakfast, okay? We can talk some more."

Johnny was amazed at how ordinary his voice sounded to his own ears, as rising excitement warred with guilt. He'd longed for Roy since almost the first moment they'd met, but his personal code of honor would never allow him to pursue anyone, male or female, who was already in a relationship. Long ago he'd resigned himself to the reality of his relationship with Roy: a friendship that bordered on brotherhood, and nothing more. Discovering the breakup of Roy's marriage brought feelings long buried back to the surface, and Johnny couldn't help feeling more than a twinge of guilt at excitement which came from a situation which was causing such pain to his partner. He loved Roy, and Roy was hurting. He should be feeling concern for his friend now, concern for his emotional welfare, and not pleasure at what might be his own good fortune. Besides, God knew that Roy seemed about as straight as they came. He'd been a married man when he and John met, and Johnny had never seen Roy express anything other than casual interest in any other woman but Joanne, and no interest whatsoever in a man. It was likely that John's feelings were unrequited, and would remain that way regardless of Roy's marital status.

Johnny Gage truly was a man who liked women a lot. He dated them frequently, as frequently as he could get one of the pretty young nurses at Rampart or one of the waitresses at the diners where he ate to go out with him. But despite his outward appearance as a consummate ladies man, John had a secret. He couldn't really remember when he first realized that not all males felt as attracted to their own sex as to the opposite one. He thought he'd been about 12. Although it wasn't until college that he'd acted on the feelings, even at 12 John knew better than to let anyone know about them. He had wanted to be a fireman since he was very young, and as he grew older he realized that the stereotypical "macho man" who became a firefighter would never accept as one of his own a man who loved other men. So Johnny had gotten quite a lot of practice at keeping his feelings secret.

Johnny'd had a few male lovers in his life, most of them in college and in the period right afterwards. He had been very careful since he'd joined the LA County fire department, he had too much to lose to risk casual love affairs with men. So he'd stuck to women... and then he met Roy, and knew that Roy was the one man he'd risk everything for. He'd never seen anything like Roy. The man was probably one of the best firefighters around and certainly the best paramedic: calm in any crisis, strong, compassionate, efficient, and with a natural affinity for medicine.

Then of course there was the physical package presented: the tall, strong, solid body, the full lips, the high, chiseled cheekbones and, above all, the large expressive blue eyes that advertised every emotion he felt. Roy presented a calm exterior, and most people thought him one of the most easy going men they'd ever known, but Johnny had learned to judge Roy's mood at a glance, just by gazing into those clear eyes. He'd seen them filled with anguish, huge with fear, sparkling with laughter and flashing with anger. John thought he probably knew Roy better than anyone else in the world, including the perfidious Joanne.

Roy finally spoke. "I don't know, Johnny. I just want to be alone right now, I think."

"For what? So you can brood? I think you need company. And whether you want to think about it or not, we still do have something to celebrate here. We could have gone to jail for something we didn't do. Getting out of a mess like that demands some kind of acknowledgement. We'll go down to Ronnie's and just get a bite and talk about baseball or something." Johnny suddenly flashed the crooked megawatt smile that always had a singularly impressive effect on any woman within range of it. "I'm buying, how can you say no to a deal like that?" He stood up and extended a hand to his partner, motioning for him to get up.

Roy laughed a little in spite of himself. Johnny was nothing if not cheap. His offer to pay was utterly out of character, and proof of both his relief and his concern. "All right, gimme a few minutes and we'll go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ronnie's was as crowded as usual at breakfast time on a weekday, and the men had to take seats at the snackbar. Over hamburgers with the works (Johnny's idea of both a real treat and a proper breakfast, Roy thought wryly) they argued about the Dodgers' chances to take the pennant and the World Series. First baseman Steve Garvey was leading the club offensively and the club's pitching staff was the league's best. Johnny was convinced that the Dodgers were going to go all the way, and while Roy agreed that the Dodgers were sure to win the pennant, he thought they were doomed to lose the Series to Charley Finley's Oakland A's, led by "Mr. October", Reggie Jackson.

After Johnny paid for the meal (and left their waitress a large tip along with his telephone number), he offered to drive Roy home. Roy opened his mouth to accept, then sighed deeply. "I don't think so, Johnny. If you don't mind driving me back to the station, I think I'll hang around there today."

"And do what? Get in B shift's way all day? You have the day off, Roy." Johnny's voice dropped a little. "Don't you want to go home, maybe you and Joanne could..."

"No. There's nothing left for us to do. And to tell you the truth, I don't want to see her right now. Maybe I'll go home tonight, after the kids get home from school, but right now... no, I don't think so."

"Then you'll come home with me." Johnny replied promptly.

"Oh, I don't know, Johnny. I don't want to screw up your day off. Don't you have plans?"

"No real plans. I was just going to take a ride on my bike, maybe go to a movie later."

Roy hesitated.

"Roy, come on. You know I wouldn't invite you if I didn't want you around."

"Okay, but if you got plans today with a girl, don't cancel 'em on my account. I'm sure I can find something to do to entertain myself."

To his surprise, Johnny blushed. "No girls today, man. Strictly bacheloring it. Come with me. You'll love my bike. I guarantee it'll make you feel better."

So they drove out to John's apartment and traded his pickup for the Harley Davidson Ironhead he rode on his days off. They rode for miles, out from LA proper to the hills surrounding the city, the hours flying by like minutes. And just as Johnny promised, Roy felt his mood lifting with each mile of asphalt they put behind them. He felt freer than he had in months, with the hot desert wind whipping his hair, sitting behind Johnny on the powerful bike, holding tight to his narrow waist.

Johnny was enjoying himself thoroughly as well, but not without guilt. He'd thought the tingles of pleasure he got on the job, when Roy touched him for some reason or another as part of their work, were all he'd ever have and now he had the joy of Roy's solid body pressed against his as they roared down the highway. He should be feeling concern for Roy, not the fire that went shooting through his body, speeding straight from Roy's hands at his waist to center sharply in his groin.

Eventually they stopped to see a movie, "Thunderbolt and Lightfoot", and left the theater still laughing at the vision of Jeff Bridges in drag. They had dinner and more than a few beers and John even managed to get Roy to laugh a time or two with his lousy jokes, waving his hands excitedly in the air for punctuation in his usual inimitable way. The dinner itself seemed like the fulfillment of a dream that Johnny had held for a long time: a date with Roy, a real date where Roy knew and accepted the fact that his partner was in love with him, and they were a couple. Eventually they had to leave the restaurant, and at John's suggestion they picked up more beer at a package store before heading back to Johnny's apartment.

"Take a seat, man." John headed to the kitchen for a couple of glasses for the beer.

Roy sat down on the couch and scrubbed wearily at his face with both hands.

"You okay?" Roy looked up to see John offering him a glass and a cold can of Bud.

"Fine. Just tired, I guess." Roy smiled suddenly, and Johnny's heart lurched, as it always did. "I'm not used to having so much fun in the course of one day."

Johnny grinned. "Well, spend more of your days off with me, and you'll get used to it."

Roy's face clouded, and John mentally kicked himself. He sat down next to Roy on the couch. "Roy, get it out. Talk to me."

"What's left to say? I told you most of the sad sordid story at the station." He gazed sightlessly off into space. "Johnny, how could she do this to me? I've always been faithful to her. Always worked hard, took good care of her and the kids. She said she couldn't handle being a fireman's wife anymore, can't handle not knowing which night some cop will knock on the door and tell her I'm gone up with a building, or in one of the brushfires in the hills. She needs more stability, she says. It doesn't matter that we've known each other since third grade, been married for ten years, have two kids... none of it seems to matter."

Roy's voice broke on the last word, and he coughed violently, an obvious attempt to cover a sob.

Johnny sighed. "Ah, Roy." He put his glass of beer down on the coffee table and moved closer to Roy. "I don't really know what to say to you."

"What's to say? The situation is pretty clear cut. The only woman I've ever loved doesn't want me. I just keep thinking about that. I've given her everything I had, and she throws it back in my face." He turned suddenly to face Johnny. "What does that say about me, John? I mean, what's wrong with me that the one person I thought I'd be with forever just all of a sudden doesn't love me anymore?"

John felt tears burning his own eyes. It hurt him more than he dared to admit to himself to see Roy so torn up.

"I'm not like you, Johnny. All the girls like you, and no wonder. Look at you! And hey, you said it yourself, I've got no charisma."

Johnny winced. Him and his big mouth. He should have known that comment would come back to haunt him, like so many of the thoughtless things he said.

"I was wrong, Roy. You have a lot to offer. I've seen girls checking you out."

Roy snorted. "I'll bet." He sighed heavily. "What do I have to offer? I'm almost 30 years old, I make a lousy $900 a month, I'm about to be a divorced man with two kids. I don't exactly have your kind of good looks. Women will run the other way when they see me coming."

"I think your looks are just fine, Roy." John said softly. Roy gave him a curious look, and he hastened to continue. "I wouldn't worry right now about that anyway. Let's just get you through this mess with Joanne before you start worrying that you'll never have a sex life again."

Roy blushed, and Johnny had to smother a smile. Even feeling so lousy for Roy, he relished the sight of his partner's fair skin coloring. He often went out his way to embarrass his modest partner with a particularly raunchy joke just to enjoy the way the pink blush would start in the vicinity of Roy's collarbones and spread slowly up to the roots of his hair. Even his ears would pinken.

"It's not an idle worry, John. I mean, it's like I told you, Joanne and I've known each other since grade school. We went together all through high school. I was her first, and she was... I mean, I just... there was..." Roy trailed off, blushing furiously.

John couldn't believe his ears. "Are you telling me Joanne's the only person you've ever had sex with?"

Roy glared at him. "And what's wrong with that? More people these days should save it for the person they will marry. I guess you think that's old fashioned. Well, maybe I'm old fashioned. I guess I'm "square". I keep my hair cut too short, I don't smoke grass, I don't screw around..." He seemed to be gathering steam, and Johnny held his hands up.

"Truce, man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to touch a nerve. I was just... surprised, that's all."

Roy rubbed his eyes. "No, it's okay. It's not your fault. I'm just so torn up over this, Johnny. I just honest to God don't know what to do." He looked pleadingly at Johnny. No longer flushed, he'd instead gone quite pale. With his gingery hair falling over his forehead, and freckles standing starkly out against his pale skin, Johnny thought he looked like a mature, much better looking version of Howdy Doody. He felt a wild urge to giggle and suppressed it hard, knowing laughter now would be unforgivable. All notions of laughter disappeared abruptly when the first tears leaked from Roy's eyes.

"What am I going to do without her, Johnny?" He finally broke, and buried his face in his hands, sobbing. Johnny didn't hesitate, he moved next to Roy, putting his arms around his friend and pulling his head down to rest against his shoulder. He rubbed Roy's back soothingly, murmuring senseless words. "Roy, it's okay. I'm here for you... I'll always be here. You can count on me, I'll never leave you..." He felt almost as distressed as Roy, because as soon as he felt the warm heavy weight of Roy's body in his arms, his own body began to betray him. His cock grew hard and heavy, and he groaned softly to himself. God, he wanted him. More than that, he needed to hold Roy and know that he felt comforted and safe.

Almost as if he were in a trance, he ran his tongue out and up Roy's cheek, tasting the salty tears that still ran down his face. Roy finally seemed to realize that Johnny was doing more than just holding him while he wept, and looked up dazedly into Johnny's face. Before he could stop himself, John flicked his tongue out, licking hungrily at Roy's lips, before gently forcing them apart and invading the warm depths of Roy's mouth. He tasted of onions from his dinner and beer and that indefinable something that John had grown used to sensing over the last few years and had started to think of as simply the essence of his partner.

At first he kept the kiss delicate, slow and sensuous. Slowly, amazingly, Roy began to respond, and John pulled at Roy's lips, nibbling and sucking them, finally biting them gently.

Roy finally pulled away to catch his breath, his head swimming. He stared as if mesmerized into John's soft dark eyes, the pupils now expanded to take over the iris, dilated with desire.

Johnny put his hand at the back of Roy's head and leaned into him, reclaiming his mouth with single-minded intensity. He continued to push Roy back against the couch cushions, moving against him so that both their bodies slid slowly down to lie on the couch, with Johnny on top of Roy, still kissing. He slid his hands up and then down Roy's ribs, down to his waist, where he slipped his hand underneath his shirt to feel soft warm skin beneath the cotton. Roy convulsed, as if the very touch of Johnny's fingertips sent electricity coursing through him.

Johnny shucked his tee shirt, tossing it into a corner of the room. He began working the buttons of Roy's shirt, and Roy cooperated sluggishly, his movements dreamy. Johnny got the last of the buttons undone and pushed the shirt open. He leaned in for another kiss and tasted Roy's lips, stubbled cheek and his neck before moving his mouth down Roy's chest and latching onto a pink nipple, suckling gently. Roy gasped harshly and arched his back, thrusting into the sensation.

Johnny pulled away and gazed down at Roy. He ran his hands over the body of the man beneath him, his partner, his lover. Down the muscular body, down the strong chest dusted with silky reddish hair, the softly rounded tummy, the line of hair, growing darker as it descended, arrowing to Roy's groin. His fingers reached the waistband of Roy's boxers and lingered there, tracing the line of elastic that touched his skin before slipping inside to graze the weeping tip of his penis. Roy shouted then, some inarticulate sound that spoke of heaven.

Johnny crushed himself against Roy, who was acutely aware of the strange sensation of their bodies grinding together, their bare sweaty chests sliding against each other, their erections rasping against each other through their jeans. Johnny pressed his swollen cock against Roy's, and kissed him for all he was worth. He rubbed frantically against him, seeking a rhythm that would ease both their suffering. Toward the end, he found himself staring down into Roy's large blue eyes, gazing into their depths and seeing his own need reflected back at him. And then they came so explosively against each other that Johnny thought he would pass out.

For a long moment they just lay there, clasped tightly in each other's arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THREE WEEKS LATER

The six men of Station 51's A shift were having lunch when the familiar tones sounded. All six men jumped to their feet until the dispatcher's voice boomed out of the speakers. "Squad 51, respond to man with possible heart attack. Four six seven DuMont, cross-street Parker, time out 13:01." The engine company, except for Cap. Stanley, went back to their meals.

"Squad 51, KMG 365." Cap. Stanley tore off the strip of paper with the response address and handed it through the squad window to Roy. The squad roared out of the station, sirens wailing and lights flashing.

Johnny donned his helmet and sat in miserable silence next to his partner. Things had gone so sour, and he didn't know what to do to make them right. He thought back to the night nearly a month ago when he and Roy had shared what Johnny had fervently hoped would be the beginning of a deepening of their already close but platonic relationship.

Roy had seemed right enough immediately after their first sexual encounter; someone who didn't know Roy DeSoto like Johnny did might have thought he was completely untroubled by what had happened. But Johnny knew better, had seen right through his partner's carefully casual post coital attitude. All too soon Roy had made an excuse and left. Johnny went to bed downhearted and spent a sleepless night, filled with dread at what his next meeting with Roy would bring. He couldn't have imagined a worse scenario than what happened, short of Roy leaving him altogether. Since that night, Roy had gone to extreme lengths to pretend to both himself and his partner that nothing of consequence had happened.

Johnny dared a look across the cab of the squad at Roy. As usual, he stared straight ahead, silent. Roy went out of his way to behave normally towards Johnny when they were around the other guys on the shift. Johnny assumed it was because he knew that the other men were certain to pick up on any sense of distance between the normally very close partners and comment on it. When they were alone, as now, it was a completely different story.

Roy steadfastly refused to discuss the matter. Every time Johnny tried to bring up what had happened between them, Roy turned white and found an excuse to leave the room or at the very least change the subject. Finally, yesterday, the dam had broken. Pushed into a corner by John while the engine company was gone on a run, Roy exploded.

"LOOK, Johnny, would you please just drop it? Nothing happened. I mean, I know something happened but it didn't mean anything!"

John had finally gotten angry then. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, PALLY, but it damn well meant something to me!"

Seeing John's hurt and fury, Roy had tried to calm down, to calm them both. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that it shouldn't have happened. *I* shouldn't have let it happen, I guess I was drunker than I thought."

Johnny's harsh bark of laughter had startled Roy. "The straight man's ultimate excuse, Roy. 'I was drunk...' Well, were you really? Think about it, were you really that drunk?"

No, he hadn't been that drunk at all, and Roy knew it. That's why he refused to allow himself to think about what had happened, why he would rather fight a four alarm blaze all alone than talk to his partner about it.

"Look, Johnny, I don't know how much experience you've had with this kind of thing, and I don't want to. It's none of my business. I just know that I don't want to talk about it, and I'd like to forget it ever happened. Can't we just go back to the way things were?"

Johnny had looked at him sadly. "I wish we could, friend. I'm sure you know that's not possible, at least not for me and if you will be honest with yourself for just one damn minute, not for you either." He sighed. "I should have said this to you a long time ago, Roy, but you were a married man, and regardless of what you think about my experience at "this kind of thing", going after married men isn't my bag." Johnny had paused for breath. "Roy, man, I.." he threw up his hands. "Why do you have to make this so hard? I love you, Roy."

Roy had just looked at him. "Well, Johnny, you are still my best friend, but I don't love you. And I'd like for us never to bring this up again, alright? I got enough on my plate right now." And with that he had shut the door of his locker, moved Johnny gently out of his way, and walked out of the room, leaving a devastated John Gage staring after him.

Now they were back in the squad, answering a call together just as they'd done countless times for the last three years. Oddly enough, the emotional turmoil both men were going through never got in the way of their professional duties. On scene, they still worked together as well as always, as coordinated and gracefully efficient as a precision drill team.

They arrived at the scene to find an elderly man lying on the floor of his garage, his hysterical daughter and numbed grandson standing over him. They did what they could, but it soon became apparent to both men that the old gentleman was gone for good. They stuck around until the coroner and the young woman's mother had returned home, then left for the station house. The loss of their patient did nothing to lift the morose mood plaguing both of the young firefighters.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next call out for Squad 51 came that night as the shift was watching another monster of the week movie, the specialty of Station 51. This time the movie in question was the original "Dracula", the 1931 version with Bela Lugosi. "Squad 51, police officer requests assistance with an injured suspect, Northdale Park, Wilmington Avenue at Crenshaw. Time out 21:15."

Johnny worked the microphone. "Squad 51, KMG 365." He hustled to the passenger side of the squad as Roy cranked the engine. "Wonder what's up?" Johnny commented. "God, I hope it's not another lady fuzz with an injured mugger!" He laughed, but Roy only smiled politely and did not comment. Johnny sighed, looked out the squad window and fell silent.

When they arrived on scene, they met Vince. "What's going on, Vince?" Johnny asked.

"Citizen saw this guy snatch a woman's purse and had his girlfriend call us. Then he chased the guy down himself, can you believe it? And they say no one wants to get involved anymore. Anyway, he roughed the guy up pretty good, and now the perp's squawking for a doctor."

"Well, I guess he'll have to settle for us." Johnny flashed his crooked smile and glanced at Roy, who quickly looked away.

John kept his smile fixed in place, and walked over to the surly crook, who was leaning against Vince's patrol car. "What seems to be the problem, man?"

"That fucking creep almost broke my arm, _man_ ," the guy snarled in response.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Johnny put the drug box down and began to examine his arm.

Roy walked to the other side of the man, put his stethoscope on and began readying the blood pressure cuff.

Johnny finished his exam and glanced up. "Well, I don't think it's broken, but it's hard to tell... hey, Vince, what do you say we get these cuffs off so I can get a better look?"

"I don't know, Johnny. This guy's a bad one." The criminal sneered in agreement.

"Well, if you want us to treat this arm, you're going to have to. I think Mr. Charming here can behave himself long enough for us to do that, right?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," the guy muttered. Reluctantly Vince walked over and began to unlock the cuffs. From that point on, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. As soon as the cuffs were taken off one wrist, the guy unwound like a coiled spring, shoving Vince backward even as he grabbed the gun from his holster. Johnny and Roy jumped back in surprise, and in the confusion Roy stumbled over the drug box. The nut, attracted by the racket, whirled around and pointed the gun at him.

"NO!" Johnny screamed, and jumped in front of Roy at the exact instant the gun discharged.

Roy watched in horrified fascination as Johnny fell to the ground. Vince reacted with the swiftness of a snake, taking the nut down with a flying body tackle and wrestling the gun from him. The same citizen who had caught the guy in the first place rushed over and helped Vince get the cuffs back on the guy and get him into the back of the squad car.

That done, Vince rushed to the fallen paramedic. Roy was leaning over Johnny, checking his airway and pulse. "Vince, the drug box! And get me the trauma kit and biophone out of the squad, hurry!"

Roy's own heart was racing. 'I don't know what I'll do if he dies', he thought.

Vince came running back with the equipment Roy had requested, and Roy began to use the trauma shears to cut off Johnny's clothing. His panic was threatening to choke him. "Johnny, can you hear me? Talk to me junior!" he shouted in John's face.

"I can hear you," John replied weakly.

Roy snatched up the biophone and frantically paged Rampart. "Rampart this is squad 51!" he called.

After what seemed an interminable wait, he heard Kelly Brackett's reassuring deep voice on the other end of the biophone.

"Squad 51, this is Rampart, go ahead."

""Rampart, we have a 25 year old male with a gunshot wound. The bullet has entered the right lateral section of the rib cage. Vital signs are BP 80 over 60, respiration 30 and shallow, pulse 130 and thready." Roy realized he was panting, and made an effort to slow his own breathing, afraid he would soon hyperventilate and be no good to Johnny.

"10-4, 51," Brackett replied. "Start bilateral IV's of Ringers, wide open and O2, at 6 LPM. Transport as soon as possible."

"10-4, Rampart." Roy replied, and lay down the phone to start the IVs.

"Roy?"

"Yeah, Johnny, I'm right here."

"Roy, are you okay?" Roy choked. Even critically wounded, Johnny was concerned for his safety. "I'm fine, Johnny, don't worry."

"Twenty-seven." Johnny muttered.

Roy blinked. "What?"

"Twenty-seven. I'm not 25, I'm 27. After all these years, you don't even know how old I am?"

Roy leaned over and put his face right into Johnny's. "Shhh, Johnny, don't try to talk." He blinked, and a single tear fell from his eye and landed on Johnny's cheek. Johnny closed his eyes. "It's okay, Roy, don't cry. I'll be fine..." His dark lashes fluttered, and he lost consciousness.

Roy placed the oxygen mask over Johnny's face and with nothing left to do for his partner in the field, he knelt and held Johnny's hand until the ambulance arrived.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arrival at Rampart the ambulance was met by Dr. Brackett and Dixie. Shocked at learning who their patient was, their actions became just a bit more urgent. "Dixie, get Dr. Morton down here on the double." Brackett ordered, and Dixie hurried off to find the young doctor.

Dr. Brackett hurried into the exam room after the ambulance attendants, followed by a phalanx of doctors and nurses.

Someone took Roy's arm when he tried to follow. "Why don't you get a cup of coffee and call the station and let them know what happened," Terri McMillan, a young nurse John had dated a couple of times was gazing up into Roy's eyes with some sympathy. He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be at Johnny's side, but he knew the young woman was right. In there, he'd only be in the way.

Roy called the station and let the other men know what had happened. They were all still awake, the movie having just ended. At Mike's suggestion, and with the Cap's approval, they left the station to go to the hospital to offer their comrades what support they could.

By the time they arrived, Johnny was in surgery. X-rays had revealed the path and final resting place of the bullet. It had apparently hit a rib and ricocheted, nicking John's liver. The doctors would have to go in and remove the bullet and repair the tear to the organ.

Roy allowed his fellow firemen to crowd around and comfort him. He desperately needed their company, indeed any distraction. He wanted to talk to them, to hash out what had gone so horribly wrong, try to absolve himself of the guilt that had begun to gnaw at him. If Johnny hadn't jumped in front of him, it would be Roy lying on an operating table, and he knew it.

After several hours of surgery, Johnny was moved to recovery for a short time and then was moved to surgical ICU. He was still unconscious when they finally allowed Roy to see him. The hospital allowed the men of Station 51 a brief look at their fallen comrade, and then, reluctantly, they returned to the station house. Roy asked for and was immediately granted personal leave to stay with Johnny. He swore to call the station house as soon as there was any news.

Except for breaks to call Johnny's family in Montana and to go to the bathroom, Roy never left Johnny's side. Dixie or one of the other nurses brought him coffee and food, but he ate little. He just sat at Johnny's side, and heedless of who saw or what they might think, held Johnny's limp, cold hand in his own. He watched Johnny sleep until finally, as morning dawned and the day grew older, physical and mental exhaustion took over and Roy lay his head on the hospital bed next to Johnny's arm and fell asleep himself.

It was only when he felt a stirring in the bed next to him that Roy woke. He sat up to see that Johnny was slowly began to come around. After a moment of staring blankly at the ceiling, he turned his head to look at Roy. Roy smiled as widely as he could and squeezed Johnny's hand. "Welcome back, pally." John smiled faintly and even managed a sly wink before drifting off again. When A shift went off duty they all came by again to see how John was doing, bringing him candy bars and magazines and goofy looking stuffed animals, even though it would be a while before he would be able to appreciate any of it. Roy was touched at the show of affection, even from Chet who came close to tears as he gazed at Johnny lying in the hospital bed.

When they were on duty Dixie and Drs. Brackett and Early stopped by frequently, and on the morning of the second day Johnny was doing so much better he was moved to a regular room.

On the morning of the third day, Dixie finally convinced Roy to go home for a while. "Roy, we love you, but you're not doing anyone any good by exhausting yourself. I promise we'll take good care of Johnny while you're gone. So why don't you go shave and get some sleep and some real food, oh and do us all a favor and take a shower, okay?" Roy laughed at the small joke, giddy in his relief at Johnny's swift improvement.

Roy went home to his empty house. Joanne and the children were gone now, Joanne had found an apartment just days after the night Johnny and Roy spent together and moved out with the children. Even though he missed his kids, Roy found the emptiness of the house did not depress him as it had in the course of the last few weeks. He even smiled as he walked through the front door, and for the first time thought of putting the house on the market and going out to look for an apartment of his own. Roy realized what a fool he'd been the last few weeks. How could he have wasted so much precious time feeling guilty over being involved with another man? He suddenly remembered something his mother had once said, and the memory struck him like a physical blow. A gossipy neighbor had confided that a young man in her church was a homosexual. Mrs. DeSoto had fixed the woman with the steely blue eyed gaze that her son had inherited and informed the woman, "Well, I'd say that's his business. It's certainly none of mine, and even if it was, far be it from me to deny anyone the possibility of love." The simple truth of that statement sank in fully for the first time, and with it came a deep sense of relief that he had been blessed with a second chance with Johnny. Roy's knees went weak, and he sank to the carpet in the living room, too exhausted to make it to the couch. He knelt there, palms upturned on his thighs, and wept.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Johnny recovered much more quickly than even the doctors predicted. Five days after the shooting he was ready to go home. This the doctors attributed to his age and good physical condition. "See, I told you all I'm skinny but tough," Johnny said with a wide grin.

Roy was allowed to take Johnny home. He carried Johnny's things inside the apartment, then surprised Johnny by putting down a single unfamiliar suitcase. "What's that?"

"That's my stuff. I thought that I'd stay with you for a while, help you out. I mean, that is if you don't mind."

Johnny couldn't hold back the grin that slowly spread its way across his face. "No, man, I don't mind. I don't mind a bit."

Roy was very busy in the weeks that followed. He called a realtor about putting his house on the market and a lawyer about handling his divorce. He worked his regular shifts (with Brice the-walking-rulebook as his temporary partner) and spent every moment of his days off with Johnny.

After a week at home, Johnny was so stir crazy that he began to go to the station house with Roy, even though he wasn't allowed to officially return to work, according to Dr. Brackett, for at least another month. He amused himself by trying to figure out the ultimate practical joke to get general revenge on Chet, playing cards and watching TV with the guys when they were around, and puttering with the equipment while they were gone on runs.

Finally Johnny was given permission to return to work, and no one was more relieved than Roy. He'd long grown used to the idea that Johnny was going to live, but if he'd had to work with Brice one more day, he wasn't sure that he'd be around to enjoy Johnny's company. He'd be in jail, charged with Brice's murder.

Their first day back at work together was magical. It was like the previous month and a half had never happened, as they fell right back into the familiar routine. After a busy 24 hour shift in which they rescued a young boy trapped underneath a pile of junk in his grandparent's attic, worked a car wreck and a fire, both men were ready to go home. Together.

Back at Johnny's apartment, Roy showered while Johnny fixed them some breakfast. After they ate, Johnny stretched languidly as a cat, leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the back legs, and commented, "Well, we have the whole day, pally. What do you feel like doing?"

Roy cleared his throat. "Well, I thought maybe we could talk. About... about what happened, what happened with us, I mean, before you got shot."

Johnny let the chair crash back down to all four legs. "Yeah? Like what part did you want to talk about?" He sounded suspicious, and a little defensive.

"Let's go into the living room, 'k? I can't talk to you staring over a table full of dirty dishes." Ignoring Johnny's muttered, "Never stopped you before...", Roy led the way to the couch.

"Johnny, I been thinkin'. A lot of thinking, since you were hurt. And I finally decided that you are right."

"I am? Well, that's a switch! Right about what?"

"About how sex, I mean, gender, doesn't matter when it comes to love. I guess I remembered something someone said once a long time ago, and it just sort of got me back on the right track. When I saw you lying there on the ground that night, I realized how much I'd lose if I lost you. I'd lose everything. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I lied to you before, Johnny. I do love you, and I'm just sorry it took almost losing you to realize it."

Johnny tried to speak and could not. Johnny Gage speechless was not a condition he was familiar with and he struggled to find the proper words. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Because man, I gotta tell you, if this is going to turn into some kind of I-love-you-like-a-brother thing, I need to know it now. Don't tease me, Roy."

"I don't think I'd know how to tease you, Johnny," Roy said, and giggled. He was staring at his hands which were clenched tightly in his lap, and he was flushed bright red to the roots of his hair.

Johnny's smile threw off enough wattage to light the White House christmas tree. "Well, maybe I can teach you." He moved closer to Roy and put one finger under his chin, lifting it so that Roy would have no choice but to look into his eyes.

" Roy, you're beautiful. And you smell good. Have I ever told you that?" He leaned over and nuzzled Roy's neck to punctuate his statement, and smiled slightly when a shudder ran through Roy's body.

"I've never told you, because I never had the chance. But I'm going to tell you now." John put his arms around Roy and pulled him back, so that they leaned against the back of the couch. "I'm going to tell you every chance I get. Tell you how good it feels to hold you like this, how soft your skin feels under my hands." Johnny's hand slipped inside Roy's shirt and strayed across his chest, found a nipple and began stroking it, smiling slightly at the gasp of pleasure and wonder that came from his partner.

Johnny leaned in to capture Roy's mouth, kissing gently, licking and nibbling at Roy's lips until he finally opened his mouth with a groan of surrender and began to hungrily kiss Johnny back. He kissed like a god. His tongue met Johnny's exploring his mouth greedily, until Johnny wondered dazedly just how much control he had left over the situation.

Johnny pulled away from Roy's mouth and began kissing and nibbling a trail over Roy's jaw line and down to his Adam's apple. Roy leaned back and reveled in the feeling as Johnny moved down, slowly unbuttoning the short-sleeved shirt Roy wore, kissing each inch of flesh as it was revealed. He finally parted the sides of the fabric and continued kissing his way slowly through the soft hair, finally fastening his mouth to Roy's nipple, suckling and lapping at it like a hungry babe. Eventually satisfied that he had treated the first nub to the utmost pleasure and torment, he kissed his way over to its mate.

While Johnny moved his talented mouth over his chest, Roy took the opportunity to lean over and bury his face in Johnny's thick wavy hair, inhaling deeply of his scent, the faint smell of shampoo and musk. Johnny continued to work his way down, along the little path of hair to Roy's navel. He kissed and nipped at Roy's belly, making him giggle and squirm as well as gasp with pleasure.

"Johnny, pleeeease....," Roy finally panted, squirming unhappily in an effort to relieve the constriction of his suddenly far-too-tight pants.

"Just hang on, " Johnny rumbled, and carefully unzipped the offending garment. With Roy's nervously cooperative help he was able to slide the pants and boxers beneath them off in one movement. Johnny buried his nose in the wiry hair of Roy's groin, kissing and nuzzling his way to the crease where thigh joined body, studiedly and a bit cruelly ignoring the very obvious erection that waited impatiently for his attention.

Once Roy was moaning steadily, Johnny finally drew his tongue in one long sweep up the underside of Roy's shaft, took the now-painful erection into his mouth and suckled it. Within moments, Roy cried out something that might have been Johnny's name and spurted his completion into his lover's waiting throat. Johnny finally let the limp organ slip from his mouth, planting a kiss on it and sliding up to pull Roy into his arms.

After a moment, Johnny felt a warm tickle of breath at his ear. "What do I do?"

The simple question, and the trust implied, made Johnny groan out loud. Rather than speaking, he undid the fastenings of his jeans, which felt more like some esoteric torture device than a simple item of clothing, and pushed them off. He took Roy's hand and placed it on his engorged cock, then covered it with his own hand. He began to stroke, showing Roy how he liked to be touched, thrilling both at the familiar sensations of his own comfortable rhythm and the foreign feel of his partner's larger warm hand. He was so close, it wouldn't take much... and when Roy leaned over, unprompted, to take one of Johnny's tight little nipples into his mouth, he threw his head back and groaned loudly as he climaxed, filaments of fluid erupting from him to spatter against his stomach and chest, and cover both their hands.

For a very long moment they lay there together against the couch cushions, Roy watching avidly as Johnny continued to milk his softening organ, squeezing out the last few drops of fluid before heaving a mighty sigh and letting go with a rather regretful whimper. Roy went to the bathroom and came back with a soft cloth, which he used to clean Johnny's chest and belly. He dropped the cloth and lightly traced his fingers over the gunshot scar on Johnny's smooth chest. "I'm so sorry..."

"Shh, forget that, man. It's nobody's fault. Not yours, anyway, and not Vince's. Nobody to blame but that nut, and he'll get his. It's karmic, man." Roy laughed a little at that. He leaned against Johnny's side, admiring the light flush that orgasm had brought to Johnny's tawny skin. "Well, what now, pally? Where do we go from here?"

"How about the shower?"

Roy laughed. "I think you know what I mean."

"We'll just take it as it comes, junior. One day at a time." Johnny hesitated. "There is just one thing..."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"Next time, think we could use the bed?"

The End


End file.
